


How To Protect The Ones You Love

by Pixelated_Wings



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-05-16 18:51:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14816918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixelated_Wings/pseuds/Pixelated_Wings
Summary: Rhysand's pov, starting after his and Feyre's second meeting in the spring court.





	1. Claire

**Author's Note:**

> Any comments are very appreciated. I will try to get the chapters out in a timely fashion. And to all you writers out there I am so awed at how you can write such long chapters.

Her smell was still embedded in my nostrils as I walked towards Amarantha’s throne.

“There was a girl there.” I purred. “A human girl. Claire Beddor.” The fake name clashed against the memory of the girl I had just met

I had found her.

I found the girl from my dreams.

And she was with him.

I suppressed a growl that had been forming in my throat. A cold chuckle resonated from the pair of bloodstained lips perched upon on the throne. “So he’s found himself a

human girl. Hmmmmm...”

I left her there lost in thoughts of the girl who could be her undoing while the same girl was in my mind for a different reason. Her eyes; blue and grey, slightly uptilted at the

corners. The way her mouth had made a little “ooh” shape when the curtains were ripped back. The fear in her eyes… Her fear of me.

* * *

That night Amarantha made me service her for longer than usual. With Tamlin this close to breaking the curse, her nerves were on edge. I blocked out every ounce of me still

left while I was in her bed. I blocked out every thought yet one kept finding its way back in. All I saw that night was blocked out brown hair, freckled skin, and a pair of

startling grey eyes

That night I made myself a promise.

I would see her again.

I needed to see her again.

I would make it out of this nightmare if only to see those breathtaking eyes one last time.

Over the next month, thoughts of the Girl invaded every moment, waking or resting. I saw her in every nook and cranny of the mountain. I saw her face every time I closed

my eyes. I played the moments I saw her over and over again until the whole event felt imagined. Eventually, I convinced myself that was the case. The Girl couldn’t exist.

No one could be that beautiful, that perfect. A week later, I was forced to face reality. A week later, I walked into the throne room to find Amarantha standing over a girl so

human and utterly terrified. Then I realized.

Claire Beddor. Shit Shit Shit. The Girl must have used a real name.

Amarantha rose from her throne and stalked towards the girl, grabbing her chin.

“Oh! We are going to have so much fun together.” She whispered into the human girl’s ear. “Out! I need some time alone with our guest.”

A few hours later, Amarantha emerged, her skin stained with blood. “Attor” The creature slithered forward. “I have grown tired of entertaining our guest myself. Will you see

to it that she does not find our hospitality lacking?"

“Yes, my Lady.” It replied, drawing out his vowels.

“Before you do, may I ask our guest a few questions My Lady?” I asked, the last part directed towards the red-headed bitch.

“That is a wonderful idea.” purred Amarantha.

I strode past her and the creature and entered the throne room. The girl was lying at the foot of the throne in a pool of blood, and vomit.

As I approached, I saw the angry gashes beautifully carved into her skin. Before I could dwell too long on my guilt, I slipped into her mind and numbed her body to the pain. I

instructed her to scream when they damaged her body, but the girl felt nothing.

Amarantha’s torture lasted weeks. After nine days, I once again slipped into the girl’s mind and released her soul from her body. Once the bitch realized she was dead,

Amarantha strung up her body above her throne, a message, and a warning. If you try to defeat her, this is what happens, whether you were conscious of your “treason” or

not.

Soon Tamlin’s forty-nine years would be up and he would be joining us Under the Mountain. On the day of the deadline, Amarantha sent me to the spring court to collect

Tamlin.

When I arrived, he didn’t resist. When I found no sign of the Girl, I almost sighed with relief. She was safe. I blinked back tears as I silently thanked the cauldron that she

would never fall into Amarantha’s cruel claws.

I believed that for weeks, right until the moment the Attor dragged her to the foot of the throne.

 


	2. The Bargain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Girl appears Under the Mountain. Cue dramatic music.

It dragged her in by a slimy limb curled in her long brown hair and shoved her to the floor in front of Amarantha. The girl had the gall to look her in her eyes.

I glanced at Tamlin, his face a thin mask of cold indifference stretching over a hurricane of fear and wrath.

¨What's this?¨ Amarantha purred. The girl struggled to her knees, eyes glancing at Jurian's finger hanging around Amarantha's long, pale neck. The terror that flooded through me was unimaginable. She was just a girl. A human girl. I didn't even know her name. Why was I so terrified?

_Pull yourself together Rhys. Don't let the bitch smell your fear. Breath in. Breath out. Relax._

I pasted an amused smile on my face. Her eyes--Oh her eyes-- focused on Tamlin's boots.

"Just a human thing I found downstairs," The Attor hissed, his serpentine tongue flicking between his teeth.

"Obviously. But why should I bother with her?" Amarantha looked bored as she twisted her red hair around her finger, pulling on the long strands.

The Attor let out a guttural sound that I've learned to be its version of laughing and prodded the girl with a taloned toe. "Tell Her Majesty why you were sneaking around the catacombs---why you came out of the old cave that leads to the spring court."

The girl hesitated a moment too long. I watched her wince as the creature struck her again with his foot. "Tell Her Majesty you human, filth."

The girl rose to her feet, her eyes trained just below Amarantha's eyes. "I came to claim the one I love," she said quietly, in almost a whisper.

The sentence awoke something inside of me. It wounded a place in my heart I had thought long dead. The pain was sharp and breathtaking. It was amazing to feel again from what was just a chasm of dead nerves.

"Oh?" Amarantha leaned forward in her throne, her eyes shone with amusement. The bitch thought she had already won.

And she had. How could a human girl overcome the fae queen who had brought all of Prythian to its knees?

"I've come to claim Tamlin, High Lord of the Spring Court." The girl said, her voice wavered slightly as she spoke.

A gasp rippled through the crowd as Amarantha let out a cackle very similar to that of a crow. She grinned at Tamlin "You certainly were busy all those years. Developed a taste for human beasts, did you?"

Tamlin did not react. He stared straight ahead. Fingers barely twitching. If I didn't know him so well, I wouldn't have noticed the tick.  _At least the bastard knew when to keep his mouth shut._ I glanced back at the girl long enough to catch her hopeless expression as she examined Tamlin. Her  _lover._  The thought made my stomach churn.

"But," Amarantha drawled. "It makes me wonder---if only one human girl could be taken once she killed your sentinel ... "  _Shit_. I knew where this was going. "Oh, you are delicious. You let me torture that innocent girl to keep this one safe? You lovely thing! You actually made a human worm love you. Marvelous." Tamlin turned his head from her in shame.

The look on the girl's face almost destroyed my self-control.  _What the fuck? She shouldn't affect me like this. Could she be ... No not possible. If she was and Amarantha found out..._ I vanquished that thought as soon as it appeared. It was no use thinking like that down here. But I still couldn't help the rage at the sight of her appal. I wanted to protect her from Amarantha, from the world that Tamlin had selfishly involved her in. But it wasn't my place.

"Let him go." Her voice sliced through my thoughts, bringing me back to reality.

Amarantha laughed, a cruel sneer appearing on her face. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't destroy you where you stand, human."

"You tricked him---he is bound unfairly." She lifted her chin as she said this. Such bravery. Such stupidity. I still couldn't help a surge of pride at her courage.

"You human beasts are so uncreative. We spent years teaching you poetry and fine speech, and that is all you can come up with? I should rip out your tongue for letting it go to waste."

The girl's jaw clenched.

"But I am curious: What eloquence will pour from your lips when you behold what you should have been."

The girl drew her eyebrows together in confusion. Amarantha gestured behind her with a flick of her long slim fingers, Jurian's eye proudly displayed in crystal.

The mangled body on the wall was covered in welts, gashes and every type of injury imaginable. It's limbs were twisted to unnatural angles and bloodstained every bare piece of flesh. The girl began to shake.

_Mine._

The word slammed against the walls of my mind. I almost jumped out of my skin. The word didn't belong to me. I glanced around, wondering if maybe it had been said aloud but no one else seemed to hear it. As Amarantha began to speak again, I pushed this new mystery to the back of my mind.

"Come now, precious. What have you to say to that?"

The girl wrenched her gaze from the corpse on the wall to Tamlin. Her eyes still wide in shock.

"Do you still wish to claim someone who would do that to an innocent?" The queen purred. The girl whipped her gaze towards Amarantha, a look of pure hatred twisted her features. But where a moment ago there was pure hopelessness, there was a spark of defiance.

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"Well, Tamlin," Amarantha said, placing a strategic hand on Tamlin's arm. "I don't suppose you ever expected this to occur." She waved her hand at the girl more daintily than a hand so covered with blood should be able to. "What do you have to say, High Lord?"

A snicker arouse from the crowd of fairies. I had been so focused on the girl that I forgot that they were still here.

"I've never seen her before. Someone must have glamoured her as a joke. Probably Rhysand."

The prick had the gall to drag  _me_  into this. Even so, the lie was weak and the bitch saw through it in an instant.

"Oh, that's not even a halfway decent lie." Amarantha stared into his eyes, head cocked slightly to her left. "Could it be—could it be that you, despite your words so many years ago, return the human's feelings? A girl with hate in her heart for our kind has managed to fall in love with a faerie. And a faerie whose father once slaughtered the human masses by my side has actually fallen in love with her, too? Oh, this is too good—this is too fun." Her laugh felt like broken glass against my ears. "I suppose if anyone can appreciate the moment," she smiled tauntingly at the ring, "it would be you, Jurian. A pity your human whore on the side never bothered to save you, though."

I felt a surge of pity towards Jurian. 500 years incased in crystal, wrapped around the finger of your killer, is a truly miserable existence.

Amarantha shifted in her throne, her casual appearance made her all the more terrifying. She picked at her nails in the way of a self-absorbed 15-year-old. "Things have been awfully boring since Clare decided to die on me. Killing you outright, human, would be dull." She glanced towards the girl, then back to her nails. "But Fate stirs the Cauldron in strange ways. Perhaps my darling Clare had to die in order for me to have some true amusement with you."

A shiver ran down my spine. I was sweating. This girl was wreaking my entire world---everything I thought I knew about myself. The girl was beginning to shake. She was in a room full of people who wanted her dead and the only person who could offer her solace, was sitting stone-faced beside her biggest threat. "You came to claim Tamlin?" Amarantha said, her words less of a question more of a challenge. "Well, as it happens, I'm bored to tears of his sullen silence. I was worried when he didn't flinch while I played with darling Clare, when he didn't even show those lovely claws ... But I'll make a bargain with you, human,"

_No._

"You complete three tasks of my choosing—three tasks to prove how deep that human sense of loyalty and love runs, and Tamlin is yours."

_Please, Tamlin, tell me you told her not to accept any sort of bargain, no matter how good it seemed._

"Just three little challenges to prove your dedication, to prove to me, to darling Jurian, that your kind can indeed love true, and you can have your High Lord." She angled her body from the girl to Tamlin. "Consider it a favor, High Lord—these human dogs can make our kind so lust-blind that we lose all common sense. Better for you to see her true nature now."

"I want his curse broken, too," The girl said.  _No._ "I complete all three of your tasks, and his curse is broken, and we—and all his court—can leave here. And remain free forever,"

"Of course," Amarantha purred, delighted at her new plaything. "I'll throw in another element, if you don't mind—just to see if you're worthy of one of our kind, if you're smart enough to deserve him."

_She can't do this._

Jurian's seemed to agree with me on this, his eye swiveling crazily about. Amarantha clicked her tongue at it and he became still.

"I'll give you a way out, girl," she went on. "You'll complete all the tasks—or, when you can't stand it anymore, all you have to do is answer one question."

_It's too easy._

"A riddle. You solve the riddle, and his curse will be broken. Instantaneously. I won't even need to lift my finger and he'll be free. Say the right answer, and he's yours. You can answer it at any time—but if you answer incorrectly ..." The wicked queen gestured at Clare, tauntingly.

"And what if I fail your tasks?" The girl asks, exhausting at least one thought for self-preservation.

Amarantha's smile was beginning to border outright glee. She considered a moment. "If you fail a task, there won't be anything left of you for me to play with."

The girl at least looked apprehensive. "What is the nature of my tasks?"

_Good girl. Ask the right questions._

"Oh, revealing that would take all the fun out of it. But I'll tell you that you'll have one task every month—at the full moon." Amarantha drawled.

 _I can not stop her, but I will not let her go into this unprepared._ In one last desperate attempt to save her, I slipped into her mind. I directed her mind to her next question.

"And in the meantime?"

"In the meantime," Amarantha said, her voice bordering on sharp, "you shall either remain in your cell or do whatever additional work I require."

I slipped a few more words in.  _Worry about yourself, darling._

"If you run me ragged, won't that put me at a disadvantage?" she said.

"Nothing beyond basic housework. It's only fair for you to earn your keep."  _Her keep my ass._ "Then we are agreed."

"If I complete your three tasks or solve your riddle, you'll do as I request?"

A small surge of pride filled my chest. I hadn't led her to this last question. She learned fast.

"Of course," Amarantha said. "Is it agreed?"

I returned to my body to see her glance at Tamlin. I saw his eyes widen slightly.  _No._  he told her. But even I knew it was a fruitless attempt.

The girl hesitated for a few moments, pondering her choices, in which survival had been almost impossible since she stupidly walked into this hellhole.

"Well?" Amarantha had grown impatient. The Attor looked ready to beat her decision out of her.

"Agreed."

Who knew that one word said by one human girl could damn me so thoroughly. Because I knew after that one word, that I would do anything to keep this amazing, beautiful, cauldron-blessed gift alive. And it appeared that I would be needed sooner than I thought.

"Give her a greeting worthy of my hall," the queen said as she strode from the throne room, blond arm-candy in tow.

I turned away to follow the queen as the fairies pounced on her.  _Do not look back. If you turn around, you are dooming both the girl and yourself. Bide your time. Plan your move. Then kill the red-headed bitch._

I repeated those words until I was out of the throne room and in my own chambers. Until the girl's screams could no longer be heard echoing down the stone hallways.


	3. Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys realizes he must get The Girl out from under the mountain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! After reading this chapter, please let me know in the comments if there are any suggestions you have or scenes from Acotar or Acomaf that you especially want me to go into detail on! and as always, any criticisms are appreciated!

_Why?_ _  
__Why did she have to show up here?_  
I thought I had scared Tamlin enough to send her away. I had scared Tamlin enough to send Tamlin away, the stupid girl came back to save him.  
_Damn it._ _  
_ I paced back and forth in front of the fire in my chambers, wearing a track in the ornamental rug.  
_She walked right into a court filled with creatures that wanted to kill her sooner than give her directions and ruled by Queen strong enough to capture Tamlin, who likes to play games with her prey. Certainly, she wasn’t that naive. She couldn't have thought she could walk in with minimal planning, demand to have Tamlin and his court released, and then sing fucking Kumbaya._  
I came to a halt in front of the fire and took a deep breath. I couldn’t help anyone if I let my fury control me.  
_Okay. Calm down. I need to think rationally here. How do I fix this huge fucking mess? How did this even happen in the first place?_  
I stopped mid-stride, my thoughts coming to a rather abrupt realization;  
_Tamlin. It’s all his fucking fault._ _  
__If he hadn’t brought her here in the first place… If he had whipped her memory before he sent her away…_  
I was practically snarling.  
_That bastard never thinks of anyone but himself._  
I stalked into the hall, a cold rage setting in my stomach. I walked down several hallways until I reached Lucien’s door. I shoved the door open, and before either of them could react, I had Tamlin pinned against the wall.  
“How could you drag her into this.” I snarled.  
Tamlin, the tool, just blinked at me.  
“I… I didn’t think...“ He stammered.  
“No. You certainly didn’t think. She is a human girl who should not be here, risking her life to save your worthless self.”  
Tamlin’s eyes met mine; the intensity in their vibrant green dissipated the rage clouding my mind. “Let me go, Rhysand.”  
I took a deep breath and dropped my arm.  
__Keep calm. Do not show how much you care. Things you care about have a habit of being taken away.  
I brushed the invisible dust of the lapels of my black suit jacket and lean against the wall. I took a minute to survey the room. I came here first because I knew that Tamlin’s chambers were too close to the Queen’s for any scheming sessions, and even though Tamlin was dumb as a doorknob, Lucien was smarter than I would like to give him credit for. The room was as dull as the rest of the mountain; the walls a stone grey, the only light coming from the lit fireplace and the single canopied bed in the middle of the room. The only difference between my room and Lucien’s was that the furnishings here were a pale green and a light pink; Spring Court colors, while mine was the dark blue and black of the Night Court.  
“Am I interrupting anything important?” I said, keeping my voice steady and playful.  
The two males stared at me, confused.  
Finally, Tamlin snarled at me. “Get the fuck out of here Rhysand.”  
I clicked my tongue. “I wouldn’t want me to leave if I were you.” I purred. “Not after that little stunt that your girlfriend pulled. Especially when I’m the only chance of you getting her out of here alive.”  
Tamlin and Lucien stared at me, their jaws slack with surprise.  
“Why would you help us?” Lucien says apprehensively.  
“Because,” I said simply “Amarantha has taken too many lives already. I’d rather there be no more unnecessary bloodshed.”  
The unbelief on the males’ faces was priceless  
“How do you propose we get her out of here,” Lucien said, his voice betraying his hope.    
“Just leave it to me. And when you have the opportunity to get her out, get her out.” I turned to walk out the door. “Oh, and Lucien, please go see what you can do to heal her in the meantime.”  
I closed the door behind me. Then the real work began.

* * *

 

  
I walked into her chambers, the queen is sitting in a chair before the fire, her elaborate dress traded in for a simple gold robe. I stood up behind her, placing my hands on her shoulders. As I began to massage the knots, I brought my lips to her ear and use my teeth to pull on her earlobe. Underneath the mask I donned before I entered the chambers was a cauldron of boiling rage begging to spill over.  
“This girl is going to be oh so fun to play with.” Amarantha purred, as my mouth moves down her neck. I mumbled my agreement as she turned around in the chair to face me. Her eyes flickered to my lips, and then to lower places on my body. I resisted the urge to flinch that occurs every time she looked at me like that. As she led me to her bed, I reminded myself of why I do this. Their faces flashed across my vision. _  
__Mor… Az… Cas… Amren… Mor… Az… Cas… Amren…_  
Before long I allowed my mind to drift into a state of numbness.  
After Amarantha finished with me and dismisses me to my quarters, The Girl consumed my thoughts. Even asleep, I dreamt of her. I imagined her sitting alone in her cell, her body broken, thinking about Tamlin. And as I lay awake I knew for certain.  
_I will do this for her._ _  
__I will do whatever it takes to get her out of here, even if she hates me for it later._ _  
__I am getting myself into deep, deep shit._ _  
_ __  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! My summer just started so I'll hopefully be posting more regularly and might even start posting weekly if I can! If you have a suggestion for what day-of-the-week I should post, please let me know in the comments.


	4. The Riddle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys learns the name of the girl who has captured his thoughts, and Amarantha's riddle is told.

The next morning, Amaratha called an audience in the throne room. As we gathered, I saw every face I had ever seen under the mountain. Well, everyone that hadn't died. The high lords gathered with their courts save for Tamlin, who stood next to Amarantha. I saw Kellias, and Tarquin, who were weary. The only time Amarantha called an audience was for executions. I met Helion’s eyes briefly. He gave me a grave nod.

Helion was the only fae Under the Mountain who didn’t hate me and knew what I was doing and why I was doing it. He knew Mor, Az, and Cas personally and understood how much I cared for them.

He was standing next to Beron and his wife.

 _Odd_.

Suddenly, the door to the throne room opened with a crash. In walked two squat red-skinned fairies, dragging the girl between them. The girl’s gaze avoided the body hanging on the wall above the Bitch.

The queen smiled as the girl approached. “You look positively dreadful.” She turned to Tamlin, baiting him. “Wouldn’t you say she’s taken a turn for the worse?” He just stared straight ahead; Not moving, barely blinking.

“You know,” Amarantha said, leaning back against her throne with feline grace. She donned a sweet smile that convinced men to offer her their kingdoms-Like a dozen idiotic high lords for example-for a kiss.“I couldn’t sleep last night, and I realized why this morning.” She ran an eye over me. “I don’t know your name. If you and I are going to be such close friends for the next three months, I should know your name, shouldn’t I?”

This peaked my interest. The Girl had consumed my every thought and not knowing her name had physically pained me.

The Girl clenched her jaw.

“Come, now, pet. You know my name—isn’t it fair that I know yours?” to my left, the Attor slithered towards the girl. Every muscle in my body tensed as he approached her.

“After all”—The Bitch gestured towards Claire’s body—“you’ve already learned the consequences of giving false names.” I didn’t look at the body hanging above my head. Neither did the girl. I suspected that would always be a sore spot. For both of us.

“Rhysand,”

_Fuck._

I slowly strolled towards the dais. I stopped next to the girl. A little too close it seemed. She flinched away from me a bit. I didn’t blame her. It’s what anyone would have done next to a monster.

I bowed to Amarantha, and as I straightened up as she said “Is this the girl you saw at Tamlin’s estate?”

_Fuck me._

I turned to look at the girl forcing a bored, disdainful look on my face to cover my sheer terror. I brushed an invisible speck of dust of my tunic.

_Stupid nervous tic._

“I suppose.”

“But did you or did you not tell me that girl,” Amarantha said venomously as she pointed at Claire hanging behind me. _Shit._ “was the one you saw?”

I stuffed my hands in my pockets to keep them from shaking. “All humans look alike to me.”

Amarantha’s smile was sickly sweet. “And what about Faeries?”

I bowed again--God I hated bowing to her. “Among a sea of mundane faces, yours is a work of art.”

Flattery always worked with her, but it was becoming less effective. “What’s her name?” She demanded, impatient.

“How would I know? She lied to me.” I was being risky and I knew it. Better if Amarantha didn't discover I wanted to know her name as desperately as she did.

I braced myself for the inevitable order for me to remove her name with force.

“If you’re inclined to play games, girl, then I suppose we can do this the fun way.” Amarantha’s attention was back on the Girl. She snapped her fingers and the Attor came forward dragging a male forward.

_Fuck._

It was Lucien.

The girl stumbled a step as he came into view, terror rolling off her in waves. I resisted the urge to steady her. And I must admit Lucien fought tooth and nail. Unfortunately, the Attor had more of both. The Attor forced Lucien to his knees at the edge of Amarantha’s throne.

Amarantha gestured to me. _Oh great._ “Hold his mind.”

I slipped my consciousness into Lucien’s and the fox became still. I wrapped my talens around his mind. God, I hated doing this.

“Her name, Emissary?”  Amarantha snarled. But the fox only glanced at his master before closing his eyes and squaring his shoulders. I increased the pressure on his mind, but he did not move.

A small, exasperated sigh left the Queen’s lips. “I thought you would have learned your lesson, Lucien. Though this time your silence will damn you as much as your tongue.” Lucien did not reply. He simply sat there, accepting his fate as if divulging her name was worth his life.

_Idiot. It's just a name._

She turned to Tamlin. “Her name?” Tamlin only glared at Lucien’s brothers.

“I don’t suppose your handsome brothers know, Lucien,” Amarantha purred, her gaze following Tamlin’s.

“If we did, Lady, we would be the first to tell you,” Eris said. Oh, how it pained me to be so close to him, and yet not be able to rip his vital organs out.

Amarantha smiled at him but was losing her patience. She hid it well, but I had the misfortune of spending too much time around her. I knew her tells. She lifted her hand, a silent signal for me to continue.

_I’m sorry Lucien._

I found my way to the pain receptors in his head, creating phantom wounds up and down his body. I must give him credit; he hid his agony well. The only sign he exhibited was a groan that escaped his lips.

The Girl could no longer take it.

“Feyre!” She shouted. “My name is Feyre.”

Something inside of me clicked. I took a step back from Lucien, my head spinning. _Feyre._ It felt like the answer to a question I didn’t know I had been asking for five hundred years.

Feyre’s knees wobbled as Lucien lay on the ground trembling. She clenched her hands--her lovely painter’s hands--at her side.

“Feyre.” The cruel queen said, marring the two syllables that had just brought me so much joy.  “An old name—from our earlier dialects. Well, Feyre,” she said. “I promised you a riddle.”

I had forgotten about the riddle. The only hope we all had of surviving. Even if the Girl--Feyre--Could complete the tasks, Amarantha surely had a loophole in place to prevent Tamlin from being freed, but with the riddle, I couldn't think of a single one.

“Solve this, Feyre, and you and your High Lord, and all his court may immediately leave with my blessing. Let’s see if you are indeed clever enough to deserve one of our kind.”  Amarantha declared, her eyes shining with the gamble she was about to make.

“There are those who seek me a lifetime but never we meet,  
  
And those I kiss but who trample me beneath ungrateful feet.  
  
At times I seem to favor the clever and the fair,  
  
But I bless all those who are brave enough to dare.  
  
By large, my ministrations are soft-handed and sweet,  
  
But scorned, I become a difficult beast to defeat.  
  
For though each of my strikes lands a powerful blow,  
  
When I kill, I do it slow …”

 

Amarantha repeated herself again, her mouth set in a smug smile. Feyre’s face was a layer of confusion over a sea of frustration. The answer was so simple, but to a girl so young and with so little experience, it escaped her.

The crowd around us began to laugh, Eris the loudest. _Oh, how I would like to rip out his vocal chords and stuff them…_ I considered Feyre with a rueful smile.

_Why the fuck did I have to choose this one?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I am hopefully going to have more time to write soon! :).


	5. The First Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amarantha announces what she has planned for Feyre and the trail ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, Y'all! Ahhhhhhhhhh. I'm so sorry this took so long. I promise it was worth the wait. I have been doing a theatre camp recently and I'm one of the leads, and we have nine performances in two weeks and a week to learn the show so I've been extremely busy. I also read Darkest Minds and saw the movie this week and let's just say that my brain couldn't handle the ending twice in 24 hours. If anyone would like to talk to me about book stuff, give prompts or critiques, or just talk about their day, I'll leave my Insta and my Tumblr in the notes after the last chapter. Anyways, please enjoy!!

The next week passed in a blur. 

Fortunately for me, Amarantha was absolutely gleeful and spent all her time in her chambers, plotting Feyre’s trails. 

Unfortunately, Tamlin kept sending Lucien to check in with me about Feyre’s escape plan. 

“Rhysand?” Lucien cleared his throat. I looked up from my novel and met his eyes, one green one gold clockwork. “Feyre’s trial is today and Tamlin and I were wondering what we are going to do to protect her.”

“ _ We  _ aren’t doing anything. Get away from me, Lucien. Just because I agreed to help you free this land from Amarantha, doesn’t mean I actually care if you do. Not if it puts me at risk. See my only interest in this “rebellion” of yours is that I want to see the sun on my face again and my magic restored in full. I couldn’t care less how it happens. I am perfectly fine waiting the millennia it will take for Amarantha to fully trust me, and restore my powers. So it would do me no harm if I were march down to that cell and rip her throat out, if it means you leave me the fuck alone.”

Lucien’s wide eyes blinked slowly, his tiny mind clearly reeling from my outburst. 

“I’m not the good guy, Lucien. This just happens to benefit me as well.” I lowered my voice into an intimidating growl. “Plus, Amarantha will grow suspicious if I am seen with you more than necessary.” 

Seeing my point, Lucien turned on his heel and marched to the door. I returned to my book: an enticing novel written by a human about her perspective of the war five hundred years ago.

The full moon was approaching fast, bringing with it Feyre’s trial. This would be the time for her to prove to the other faeries Under the Mountain that she has the strength to save us all. 

So naturally, Amarantha would try her hardest to kill her today. 

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Amarantha stepped in, her dark purple dress flowing behind her. She approached me, her claws scraping against the grain of the desk, then trailing up my arm and around my shoulders before finding their spot on the back of my neck. I repressed a shudder as she leaned in, her mouth inches from my face and her breath hot against my ear as she said “We should head down to the throne room Rhysand. I wouldn’t want to miss the little show I have planned.

I turned to face her, a seductive smile across my lips. “Oh, I could think of other ways we could spend our time.” 

_ I need to distract her.  _

I was worried that she would see past my lazy expression to the tension between my shoulder blades. So I buried my face in her neck.

“Rhysand,” she said, pulling me off of her. “We really do need to go now.” 

“Fine,” I grumbled. 

We made our way down to the throne room, collecting Lucien and Tamlin on the way. Fortunately, Amarantha walked with Tamlin, meaning she paid no attention to me. Unfortunately, that meant I was walking with Lucien. 

_ Great. _

By the time that we got to the throne room, I was at my wit's end. Lucien spent the entire time giving me barely concealed worried glances, while a few steps ahead of us, Amarantha attempted to bate Tamlin into speaking.

Already, a large crowd had gathered, giddily awaiting Amarantha’s announcement. The Queen made her way to her throne, her plum dress trailing behind her. After she had sat down, she raised a hand to quiet the room. The room stilled. 

“As you all know, we have a special pet who has been staying with us for the last few days,” Amarantha said. “And I have made a little deal with it. If she can complete three trials, one on each full moon, then I will release her and the spring court from their original bargains.

“Tonight, as many of you are aware, is the first full moon since our pet has arrived, witch also means that tonight is the night of its first trial.” The crowd roared in approval. “I have decided that since it is only its first task, that I will take pity and make it simple. For its first task, the little human will be joining us in the arena, where she will slay the Wyrm, or die in the attempt.”

 

… 

 

The arena was horrific. 

There was no other way to describe it.

It was a mud pit surrounded on four sides with stone walls. In the center, there was a labyrinth of open-topped tunnels, perfect for the sport of hunting monsters. Or being hunted by them. 

Amarantha had a floating dais that would move to and from the labyrinth because the queen would never walk in the mud beside us peasants. 

The Bitch took her seat on her bone throne, motioning for Tamlin to take the seat beside her. The other high lords and I were left to fend for ourselves through the mud. 

A few minutes later, Feyre appeared at the archway, followed by two armed guards. She held her head high and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at her bravery. My mouth stretched into a sly smirk. 

Feyre was shoved to her knees before Amarantha but rose on trembling knees: a small act of defiance. 

Feyre looked in my direction. Amused, my mouth twisted into a feline smile. Feyre promptly proceeded to ignore me.

Again, Amarantha needed only to raise her hand for the silence she needed to speak. “Well, Feyre,” Just hearing the bitch say her name made my skin crawl. “Your first task is here. Let’s see how deep that human affection of yours runs.” 

Feyre’s gaze was focused on the hand Amarantha rested on Tamlin’s knee. The sight caused her to bare her teeth at the woman.

“I took the liberty of learning a few things about you,” Amarantha said, her voice in a low drawl to create the effect of boredom. “It was only fair, you know.”

Feyre’s face turned a few more shades green, the fear flooding off her in waves, her legs shaking.

“I think you’ll like this task.” The queen waved a long slim hand, gesturing for the Attor to carve a path through the crowd from Feyre to the pit. “Go ahead. Look.”

Feyre apprehensively approached the edge of the pit. While she peered over the edge, hands snaked out and roughly shoved her over the side.

My heart stopped. 

_ Calm down, Rhys. She’s fine. A little muddy, but fine. I just need to trust that she can do this. The Cauldron wouldn’t be so cruel as to give me so little time with my…  _

I shoved that thought deep into my subconscious: a problem for another time.

“Rhysand tells me you are a huntress.” The shadow of panic darkens Feyre’s face as I cringe inwardly at Amarantha’s use of my name. “Hunt this.” 

The Fae gathered around the arena cheer, money exchanging hands as bets are placed. Feyre looks at Tamlin, studying his ever-stoic face.

“Release it,” Amarantha purrs. 

In response, the sound of metal on metal berates the air. Feyre trembles, rightfully terrified of the task ahead. The crowd quiets just enough for the low guttural sound of the Wyrm to shake the cavern. 

“Run,” The bitch says, always fond of dramatics. 

And run she does. 

I make my way over to a bookie, resisting the urge to kill everyone here and take Feyre far, far away. 

_ The best way to prove my faith is in her is to put my money where my mouth is.  _

“How long do you think she will last. One and a half to one for less than five minutes, Two to one for over five, three to one for 10, ten to one for 15 and twenty to one that she passes.” The bookie says. He isn’t very remarkable, deep blue skin covered in darker whirls, and golden irises framing silver pupils. His hair is stark white, an unmistakable trait of the Summer Court. 

I hand him my money. “Ten says she passes.”

The bookie looks up at me, shock written on every inch of his face. 

“Y-yes, sir.” He takes my money, writing down my bet. 

I turn back to the dais, keeping my eyes on Feyre the entire time. The roaring in my ears told me that my heart was beating too fast. 

_ Control Rhys. Control. Keep your cool.  _

I took two deep breaths.

_ Everyone in this room can hear your heartbeat. _

Feyre was sprinting as fast as she can, her feet slipping and sliding in the four inches of mud below her feet. She barreled down the trench, the Wyrm slowly gaining ground behind her. She coming up on a fork in the path, she veered left, trying to put as much distance between her and the Wyrm. Trying to make another left, Feyre slid into the wall. She quickly extracted herself, mud sticking to her, and continued down the trench. Her eyes darted to the side, causing her to miss a thin path through the mud. Feyre skidded to a halt, turned around threw herself threw the hole. Unfortunately, the hole was too small. She pulled and pushed and clawed at the slime holding her in place but she was running out of time. The Wyrm was fast approaching and there was nothing I could do but watch--my heart racing and eyes watering--while the most amazing, beautiful, courageous--I could continue till Z--girl struggled through layers of mud while a monster was preparing to eat her as a light snack.

Suddenly, the mud around her gave way and Feyre was spit out onto the other side of the wall. The crowd sighed as the monster flew past the opening. Feyre didn’t waste any time celebrating her small victory. She flew down the trenches, crashing into wall after wall as she attempted to turn down a new path. As she ran she continued to check behind her for the monster.  At one point she even looked up at the crowd. Because she was looking up I clearly saw realization and relief dawn on her face.

_ She must have figured out the creature was blind. _

Desperate to have any insight into her mind, I slipped past the rudimentary defenses, making a mental note to help her fix those when we got out of here. 

_ When. _

This was the first time in fifty years I had ever thought escape was possible, let alone inevitable. 

A ghost of a smile formed on my lips. 

Then Feyre fell over the edge of a pit. 

_ Cauldron…  _

Feyre tumbled down before landing ankle deep in mud. Turning in a circle, she surveyed the walls which were too steep to climb. She stumbled forward into the cave, and I re-entered her mind, seeing the world through her eyes. I saw her hand braced against the ground. I watched as her hand connected with a hard object on the ground. 

Bone.

She continued to fumble around on the ground, her hands discovering more and more bones, of all shapes and sizes. When her hands landed on a skull, she jumped to her feet.

“Feyre, You’re ruining everyone’s fun!” Amarantha said. Despite Feyre’s peril, the human still managed to bear her teeth at the queen. “Come out!”

Feyre took one last look around the den before returning to the pit. I switched back to my own perspective.   
Feyre began to climb the wall. Her hands and feet were caked with mud. She made it about a foot of the ground before she fell back down. As she tried again, the lesser faeries began to batter her with insults.

“A mouse in a trap.” said the one with blue skin

“Need a stepping stool?” said another, this one with green skin.

I marked both their faces and I don’t think anyone would care if neither of them woke up tomorrow. 

One of the comments seemed to hit a nerve with Feyre because she marched back to the den. She soon emerged carrying two bones, both larger than her leg. She began to jam them into the wall. 

“What’s it doing? What’s it planning?” one of the faeries hissed.

My chest swelled with pride when she grabbed two more bones and pushed them into the wall above the other two. 

The faeries around the pit were becoming uneasy: whispering to themselves as Feyre collected more bones. All of the sudden she stopped what she was doing, and I saw a spark of defiance cross her face. She grabbed one of the bones and broke it across her knee.

_ What was she doing? _

Feyre walked to the center of the pit, hesitated for a moment and stuck the bones in, sharp end up. She continued to do this, at one point switching to use her foot to crack the bones in half. Soon, the whole floor, save for one small spot was covered in jagged bone-spears.

A perfect trap.

_ Who is this woman? _

Feyre walked back over to the bones stuck into the wall and began to climb. When she reached the top of the pit, she heaved herself over the lip.

Before she had left the pit, Feyre had grabbed three bones, which she was currently securing to her belt. After the bones were strapped in, Feyre walked to the wall and began to coat herself in the reeking mud. 

_ Smart girl, hiding your scent.  _

“What’s it doing?” someone said as Feyre drew one of the bones from her belt

The voice came from the green-skinned lesser faerie from earlier. 

“She’s building a trap,” I said, attempting to keep the pride from my voice.

“But the Middengard—”  
“Relies on its scent to see,” I interrupted. Feyre glared at me and a soft smile appeared on my lips for a moment before transforming into a smirk. “And Feyre just became invisible.”  
Feyre’s hands morphed into an obscene gesture before her legs carried her away. As she went, Feyre stuck bones into the wall at tight corners, most likely to help her turn. 

She found the Wyrm easily. A large group of faeries gathered around it to throw insults and small objects. Feyre slowed to a hunter's stalk, pressing her back against the wall. As she turned the corner, she slowly drew out the bone and dragged it across her palm, flinching at the sting birthed from the action. She clenched her hand into a fist before looking up. 

The crowd had gone deathly silent. 

The Wyrm was gone. 

Feyre whipped her head around violently, searching for the creature. I spotted and before I could think, I had opened my mouth to call a warning to the human below. Fortunately, Lucien beat me to it. 

“TO YOUR LEFT” 

She stumbled, managing a few feet before the wall behind her exploded. 

And thus the chase began. 

Feyre bolted down the trenches, using the bones she had imbedded in the walls to help propel her around the shaper turns. When she reached the pit, she launched herself, her limbs flailing, to the bone free spot she had created earlier. As soon as she hit the ground, she scrambled into the den. 

Seconds after she had moved, the Wyrm followed her into the pit, but unfortunately, it didn't have the aim or the right size to hit Feyre’s safe spot. It came crashing down, impaling itself on the bone-spears. 

And it stopped moving. 

After a few seconds of sheer terror, Feyre emerged from the den, her left arm hung limply at her side. She had to climb over the Wyrm’s lifeless corpse before she could climb from the pit. She made her way back to Amarantha’s platform. 

The Queen’s face was priceless. The queen's lips were thin as Feyre glared up at her, her teeth bared. Feyre was shaking, and I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or relief. Probably a mixture of both.

“Well,” Amarantha said with a little smirk. “I suppose anyone could have done that.”

At those words, Feyre snapped. She took a few running steps and hurled the bone in her hand at Amantha. It landed at her feet, spraying the Queen and her white dress with filth. There was a collective gasp from the audience, but I couldn’t help the smirk that spread across my face. 

I heard a low whistle beside me. 

“Mother’s tits, Rhys. If you don’t marry her you dumb prick, I will.” 

I knew no one was there but I couldn’t stop my head from turning to look for Cassian. 

“Naughty,” Amarantha said, shaking her head. 

“I suppose you’ll be happy to learn most of my court lost a good deal of money tonight,” she said, picking up a piece of parchment. 

_ Oh shit. _

“Let’s see,” Amarantha went on, reading the paper as she toyed with Jurian’s finger bone at the end of her necklace. “Yes, I’d say almost my entire court bet on you dying within the first minute; some said you’d last five, and”—she turned over the paper—“and just one person said you would win.”

_ At least this was easily explainable.  _

The Attor pulled Feyre from the pit and delivered her to the foot of Amarantha’s throne.

Amarantha’s brow furrowed as she reread the list. She waved a hand at Feyre’s guards. “Take her away. I tire of her mundane face.” She clenched the arms of her throne hard enough that the whites of her knuckles showed. “Rhysand, come here.”  
I swagger up to the throne as Feyre was pulled from the arena. 

“Yes, your Majesty?” I said, my hand taking hers and planting a kiss on her knuckles. 

“Please explain to me why you bet on our human pet surviving her task?” 

I smirked. “I thought I might shake things up a little.” I replied. “It’s not like I need the money.” My shrug had a dismissive tone. I walked around the back of Amarantha’s throne. I brought my mouth to her ear. “Besides, it gives me that little rush of adrenaline, betting against the odds.” I purred.

Amarantha seemed satisfied with my answer, for she waves her hand at the crowd, rose from her seat and promptly walked out of the throne room.

As I followed her from the room, I had only one thought.

_ This is going to be a long two months. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insta: @weirdfangirlposts  
> Tumblr: pixelated-wings-writing


	6. Our Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhysand and Feyre make a deal. You know the drill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for being away for so long. I just finished my school play which has been consuming so much of my time and hopefully I will be able to write more. Thank you for your support!

It took all of my self-control to not run to Feyre as soon as the trial finished. I had frequent, painful meetings with Tamlin and Lucien, where both would complain about how little was happening while refusing to act because it was “too dangerous.” I spent the six days after Feyre’s trial trying to convince either of the males who claimed to care about her to venture to her cell and heal the arm that was most definitely broken. Their responses were always “Amarantha has control of almost all of my powers” from Tamlin, or “since warning Feyre at the trial, Amarantha has guards relentlessly watching my every move.” from Lucien. After the sixth day of negotiations over a topic that shouldn’t have needed to be negotiated, my patience had worn past thin.

“If neither of you bastards will do it, then I’ll go myself.” I proceeded to winnow to Feyre’s cell.

When I got to Feye’s cell, I, Rhysand, the most powerful High Lord in history almost became feral at the sight that awaited me. 

Feyre’s eyes were heavy-lidded, her arm twisted at an odd angle; blue and purple where the bone stretched the skin. 

_ I should have come sooner.  _

I masked my pain and anger with a slow smile. “What a sorry state for Tamlin’s champion.” 

_ It’s better if she hates me.  _

“Go to Hell.” She said, her words coming out as barely more than a wheeze. 

My instincts went into overdrive and before I could stop myself from stalking towards her and dropping into a crouch. 

_ She looks awful. _

There was a stench that had been flooding my nostrils since I had arrived, I turned my head to the offending scent and discovered a corner full of vomit which made me instantly wrinkle my nose. In front of me, Feyre attempted to shift her legs but, It seemed she had not moved them in days, causing her to not make a huge change in position. I reached out my fingers to graze her forehead. She was too out of it to do more than blink. 

“What would Tamlin say, if he knew his beloved was rotting away down here, burning up with fever?” I murmured, battling to keep the anxiety out of my voice. “Not that he can even come here, not when his every move is watched,” I added bitterly. 

Feyre kept her broken arm in the shadows, hoping that I wouldn’t notice

_ It’s a little late for that. _

“Get away.” She said, her eyes watering, no doubt from the pain.

I raised an eyebrow, questioningly. “I come here to offer you help, and you have the nerve to tell me to leave?” I chose my words carefully. Cocky, but the damage I caused was repairable.

“Get away.” She said again. Her voice was becoming weaker, her eyelids drooping.

I swallowed my anger. 

_ Now, what would a self-obsessed prick say? _

“You made me a lot of money, you know. I figured I would repay the favor.”

She leaned her head against the wall, and my concern skyrocketed. 

“Let me see your arm.” I quietly ordered. 

She proceeded to ignore me, her eyes focused on a point over my left shoulder.

“Let me see it,” I said, the anger becoming too powerful to control. I grabbed her arm, aware of the injury, but hard enough to pull it into the light. She bit down on her lip to keep from crying out at the pain that was surely sparking through her arm. 

I examined the bone sticking out through her skin, the purple, black, blue, green, and yellow surrounding the wound and wondered how this human girl had lived with this injury for a week. I was at a loss for words.

_ Be a Prick. _

I smirked. “Oh, that is wonderfully gruesome” She swore at me. “Such words from a lady.” 

_ This woman is going to eat me alive. _

“Get out.” She said, her voice sounding worse than the wound. 

“Don’t you want me to heal your arm?” My fingers slightly tightened on her elbow, careful to cause discomfort but not pain. 

“At what cost?”

_ Good. She was learning. _

“Ah, that. Living among faeries has taught you some of our ways.” 

_Now, how to get her to agree to my deal._  
“I’ll make a trade with you,” I set her arm down. _If Tamlin was going to be a tool, then I’m going to make him regret it. Also, if I got to spend even another day with her I would take it._  “I’ll heal your arm in exchange for you. For two weeks every month, two weeks of my choosing, you’ll live with me at the Night Court. Starting after this messy three-trials business.”

“No.” 

_ Damn it. _

“No?” I purred. I braced my arms on my knees as if preparing to stand. 

“Get out.” She breathed.

“You’d turn down my offer—and for what?” I waited for her to reply. When she didn’t, I stood and began to pace. “You must be holding out for one of your friends—for Lucien, correct?”  _ Prick  _ “After all, he healed you before, didn’t he? Oh, don’t look so innocent. The Attor and his cronies broke your nose. So unless you have some kind of magic you’re not telling us about, I don’t think human bones heal that quickly.” His eyes sparkled, and he stood, pacing a bit. “The way I see things, Feyre, you have two options. The first, and the smartest, would be to accept my offer.”

She spits, her saliva landing a few feet from my shoes. I gave her my best disapproving look and continued.

“The second option—and the one only a fool would take—would be for you to refuse my offer and place your life, and thus Tamlin’s, in the hands of chance.”

I stopped pacing. Obviously, a rougher approach was necessary. 

“Let’s say I walk out of here. Perhaps Lucien will come to your aid within five minutes of my leaving. Perhaps he’ll come in five days. Perhaps he won’t come at all. Between you and me, he’s been keeping a low profile after his rather embarrassing outburst at your trial. Amarantha’s not exactly pleased with him. Tamlin even broke his delightful brooding to beg for him to be spared—such a noble warrior, your High Lord. She listened, of course—but only after she made Tamlin bestow Lucien’s punishment. Twenty lashes.”

She started shaking. 

_ What did I do? _

My voice threatens to soften and my face almost crumbles. I force myself to shrug. “So, it’s really a question of how much you’re willing to trust Lucien—and how much you’re willing to risk for it. Already you’re wondering if that fever of yours is the first sign of infection. Perhaps they’re unconnected, perhaps not. Maybe it’s fine. Maybe that worm’s mud isn’t full of festering filth. And maybe Amarantha will send a healer, and by that time, you’ll either be dead, or they’ll find your arm so infected that you’ll be lucky to keep anything above the elbow.

“I don’t need to invade your thoughts to know these things. I already know what you’ve slowly been realizing.” I crouched in front of her my eyes were beginning to sting. Hopefully, she would think it was from her reek. “You’re dying.”

She scrunched her face together. I had to admit that it was cute but now was not the time. She was in pain.

“How much are you willing to risk on the hope that another form of help will come?”

She lifted her gaze to mine. It was full of so much hatred that I lost track of my words. 

“Well?” I managed to find.

She bared her teeth. “Go. To. Hell.”

Her fire and metal amazed me, even if it was going to get her killed.

This thought pushed me over the edge. Without thinking I reached out and grabbed the shard of bone sticking out of her arm and twisted. She screamed in pain, her body straining to get away from me. Tears flowed down her face in rivers. 

I stood up and smirked, retreating into my most used expression; my most well-worn mask.

And she spat in my face.

_ Cauldron, what am I going to do with you. _

“This is the last time I’ll extend my assistance,” I said, turning and walking to the cell door. “Once I leave this cell, my offer is dead.” She spat at me again.  _ This fire. _ “I bet you’ll be spitting on Death’s face when she comes to claim you, too.”

I began to winnow away, a last desperate attempt to save her. 

“Wait.”

My heart skipped a beat.

_ Thank the Cauldron. _

“Wait.”

As I banished the darkness, my grin wasn’t entirely faked. “Yes?”

She struggled to raise her chin. “Just two weeks?”

“Just two weeks,” As I knelt before her my heart refused to follow a pattern “Two teensy, tiny weeks with me every month is all I ask.”  
“Why? And what are to … to be the terms?” Her head dipped lower.

“Ah,” I said, adjusting the lapel of my tunic just to give my hands something to do. “If I told you those things, there’d be no fun in it, would there?”

She looked at her arm, considering my offer. I know I could have invaded her mind slipped the word yes in, I could have bent her to my every whim. She was human after all. But I wouldn’t do that. Not to her. She was my bright light in my dark world. A world I hope she never lives in.

She looked up. “Five days.”

“You’re going to bargain?” A low chuckle slipped out. The first time I’d really laughed in… Decades. “Ten days.”

She held my gaze with such intensity it almost brought me to my knees. “A week.”

My gaze traveled along her broken body, “A week it is.” The voice that should have held narcissism and triumph came out as a murmur.

“Then it’s a deal.”

Mt magic, that had been itching to heal her since I entered the cell, reacted swirling around her arm. Bones melded and skin stitched together. Then I added something of myself. When my magic pulled away there were swirls of black ink where the torn skin had been. I also removed they layers of dirt caked to her skin. 

When Feyre opened her eyes she seemed more alive then I had ever seen her. Her skin glowed and her eyes were dark and shining. Then she saw her arm.

“What have you done to me?” Her voice held disgust and fear.

I stood up, my hand pulling at my hair. 

_ I probably should have mentioned that part. _

“It’s custom in my court for bargains to be permanently marked on flesh.”

A shiver ran down my spine as she ran her hand along the tattoo. 

“Make it go away.” 

I laughed. “You humans truly are grateful creatures, aren’t you?”

“You didn’t tell me this would happen.”

“You didn’t ask. So how am I to blame?”I turned and walked towards the door. I felt her glare between my shoulder blades. I could smell her regret. “Unless this lack of gratitude and appreciation is because you fear a certain High Lord’s reaction.”

The fear in her face tells me a thousand things. She shouldn’t be scared of the man she loves. She shouldn’t be scared for her life when she took measures to save it. I wanted to throw the bastard against a wall and punch till his brains became the new wallpaper. 

“I think I’ll wait to tell him until the moment is right, though,” I say as I begin to disappear. That bastard deserves his fate and I would leave him to rot if it didn’t mean this light would be snuffed out. 

“Rest up, Feyre,” I say, her name like a prayer against my lips as I winnow back to my chambers.


End file.
